Miami Nice (or Rules Were Meant To Be Broken)
by hazeleyes571
Summary: Horatio Caine finds himself intrigued and that doesn't happen very often: "Am I being 'chatted up?" "Do you want to be?"


Disclaimer: CSI Miami is a copyright product and does not belong to me. Original characters borrowed for entertainment only, no infringement is intended, no money being made.

Author: hazeleyes57

Rating: M 18

A/N: Sometimes you have to jump to see if you can fly.

My original character of Elena, should you want to see her how I imagined her, would not look too dissimilar to Claudia Black. This fic was just for fun, I had no plans to upload, but GiuliettaC nagged me into it. Resistance was futile - I've met weaker steam rollers. The hotter version is over on an alternative site that (deservedly) has 'Adult' in the title!

Miami Nice (or Rules Are Made To Be Broken)

"Who's the carrot stud-muffin?"

Eric Delko nearly dropped the automatic pipette he was about to use.

"What?"

He looked at his lab colleague with some degree of shock.

He knew from her personnel jacket that Elena was a forty-year-old widow from England and had been working in forensics for over twenty years. He knew from the evidence of his own eyes that she had dark hair, green eyes and had been working in this lab for only a week.

The cheeky grin that briefly came his way took years off her. She nodded none too subtly to the man walking past the corridor window. Delko followed her gaze and his landed on – _what had she called him?_ - the carrot stud-muffin.

A small grin escaped before he could stop it twisting one side of his mouth upwards.

"That would be my brother-in-law and your new boss."

As always when thinking of H as his brother-in-law, he thought of Marisol. Gone, but never forgotten.

He was brought back to the present by the obvious dismay in Elena's exaggeratedly slumped posture.

"Oh, darn it – really? My new boss _and_ married. A two-striker. Bum."

Delko's eyebrow shot up. _Who said 'bum' these days?_

"Two-striker?"

Elena turned back to her work.

"For Peace on my Earth, I have some rules. No co-workers and no married men."

She glanced up at him and waggled her eyebrows suggestively; Delko laughed despite himself. Elena was gently flirtatious, and he was reminded of something he had read about flirtation – 'attention without intention'. In the last week she had demonstrated a quick and lively mind, a sharp wit and a love of terrible puns. Coupled with a fanatical devotion to doing a great job of work, she had settled in remarkably quickly.

Eric's smile gleamed whitely in his handsome tanned face.

"Aw, that's a shame, I was going to ask you out this weekend."

Elena didn't pause in what she was doing.

"Honey, you wouldn't last two seconds with me."

Delko wasn't sure whether he was insulted or amused the most. Amusement won out and he smirked.

"No?"

"Heck no, _and_ I'd ruin you for anyone else. I'm doing you a favour, trust me."

As Delko didn't know what else to say, he grinned and bent his head back to his work.

About a minute passed in silence as Elena finished what she was doing.

"Hey, Eric, have you heard that the 'Uncle Ben' man has died?"

His mouth dropped open as his brain tried to follow the subject change.

"Huh?"

Elena's face was uncharacteristically sombre as she pulled off her gloves and dropped them in the clinical waste bin on her way to the door. She glanced back.

"Yep, a real shame. No more Mr Rice guy."

A heartbeat later, Delko's laughter followed Elena out of the door and she grinned with satisfaction. She loved it when a joke went well.

As she headed for the break room for lunch, she pondered on her department head.

_So, the redhead was her new boss. Pity he was married; from what she had seen, she could easily have been tempted to break her 'not at work' rule if he'd been available._

Elena sighed, flexing her shoulders to release the tight muscles.

_Still, look on the bright side – he might be a right git in person._

Totally involved with what she was reading, it took Elena a moment to register the fact that her name had been spoken. She looked up from her book, her fork suspended over her chicken salad.

"Miss Troi?"

The shock of red hair combined with startlingly blue eyes still made for an arresting picture and she liked what she saw close up. She dropped her fork, no longer interested in her food.

"It's 'Mrs', but yes, that's me."

"I'm - "

"Day Shift Supervisor Lieutenant Caine."

Elena pronounced it '_lef-tenant', _in the English way. She stood up and offered her hand, which he took and shook as he nodded.

"I apologise for interrupting your lunch."

Her smile was friendly.

"Quite all right. Nothing terribly exciting. What can I do for you?"

Caine's raised eyebrows indicated mild surprise at her straightforward question. Weren't the Brits traditionally supposed to be reserved and shy?

"I usually greet new staff on their first day and give a brief orientation about the work here. As I have been away, I was unable to do that, but I sure my deputy, Miss Duquesne, was able to help with any queries you may have had..?"

"Oh yes, Calleigh took me around and introduced me to the team. She was very helpful. I found her quite delightful."

_Delightful? Unusual description for a woman that has often been mistaken for cool or aloof by strangers. Caine knew Calleigh better than most and was well aware of her genuine charm, but not everyone picked up on that so quickly. Elena had obviously passed muster with her and that spoke volumes to him._

"Good. Good. How has your first week been?"

"Great. Hot, but great. Turned into a big fan of air-conditioning. No pun intended."

Caine smiled.

"None taken. Perhaps you ought to invest in a pair of sunglasses too."

Elena's eyes widened with amusement.

"I know; it's so bright, isn't it? Completely different quality to the light here in Florida."

"Yes, yes it is."

She eyed him speculatively.

"I'm guessing you have to be careful with such fair skin." She looked him over. "Prevention or avoidance?"

Caine was taken aback again. A curiosity that spoke of potential 'personal boundary' issues in the future vied with his flicker of interest in the present.

"A little of both."

"Umm. I'm lucky I guess. My mother's of Spanish descent and I've been fortunate to take after her in colouring, rather than my father's Celtic white."

The flicker of interest was fanned. Caine dipped his head but looked sideways up at her face.

"Unusual surname for an English father though..?"

"Troi? Yes. His father was a quarter Greek. Unfortunately both my parents also have a lively sense of humour and I had a bit of bother once I'd moved up from primary school."

Caine raised his eyebrows in query even as the penny began to drop. His mouth twitched in amusement.

"Helen of Troy?"

Her grin was wry.

"Yep. Elena Troi. The name that launched a thousand quips."

Caine did smile then, and so did Elena.

The silence lengthened and, for Elena at least, it could have turned into what the film people liked to call '_a moment' _until she mentally shook herself into awareness.

_Married. Remember he's married._

Caine seemed unaffected by the potential 'thing' happening.

"Well, Mrs Troi-"

"Elena, please. I don't even know why I mentioned it was 'Mrs.' I just got so used to correcting people when Alan was alive..."

"You didn't take his name?"

"No. No, I didn't. It was silly – _I_ was silly; young and independent..."

_Desperate to be tied to someone, and yet not._

"I regretted it later, but by then Alan was ill and I never got around to changing it."

She wondered why she was telling him all this. She was usually as close-mouthed as anything about what she considered 'personal stuff'. She looked up to Caine's face.

He was looking past Elena and out of the large window behind her, his gaze as distant as his thoughts, but his expression was bleak. She wondered what had caused that sudden shift when only a moment ago he had been smiling.

In the space of a blink, Caine was back in the room. He nodded to her salad.

"I'll leave you to your meal. Welcome to the team, Elena. Anything you need, you just let me know."

"Thanks, I will."

Elena watched him walk away, her expression thoughtful.

_Bugger. Not a git after all. Nice. Far, far too nice. Double bugger._

Six weeks later.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Elena looked up from her task with an easy smile.

"Sure – but wouldn't it be two questions?"

Natalia was getting used to the unconventional Brit in their midst and her brain barely took a second to catch up.

"Funny, yes, I guess so. I just wondered why you're here."

Elena looked up innocently.

"Here in the lab.? Here in Miami? Here in America?"

Natalie's lips tightened fractionally but she persevered.

"Any or all of the above."

Sensitive to changes of mood, Elena looked – really looked – at her colleague, and understood from her expression more than she, Natalia, realised.

"I'm in the lab analysing DNA, I'm in Miami because I have a job here and I'm in America because I promised my husband I would do the things we were going to do together."

The dry factual response was not what Natalia had expected.

"I...Sorry."

"What for?"

Natalia shrugged.

"Being nosy."

Elena laughed with genuine humour.

"No, you're not. Besides, you're not nosy, you're curious. Part of your job, _n'est pas?_ I was terrified of flying; still am, actually, but he loved it. He was worried that I would never leave England and visit all the places we were going to see together. I would have preferred to see them with him, but it wasn't to be."

"Is Miami your first stop?"

"No, I spent two years working in San Francisco."

"As a CSI?"

Elena returned to her work.

"No."

Even Natalia could see that the single word had stopped the conversation dead. Fortunately she didn't have anything else to do as the shift was about to end. She looked around.

"You nearly done? You want a hand with anything?"

Elena looked up and smiled pleasantly.

"Thanks, but no, I'm fine, I'll be done shortly. See you tomorrow."

Natalia gratefully left the lab as the equipment in already in order for the next shift.

Ten minutes later, Elena walked out into the still bright late afternoon sunshine and to her annoyance discovered that her car would not start.

Not far away, Horatio Caine heard a car engine repeatedly not firing. He walked to the source and found the labs' newest recruit getting out of her car. He removed his sunglasses.

"Problem?"

Elena looked up and shielded her eyes against the sun being silhouetted by her boss. Great. Being rescued by the guy she had been having rather provocative dreams about for weeks and already thought of as a heroic knight gave him chance to polish his already shiny armour.

_Why is it that 'armour' and 'amore' sound the same? Kerrist, I've got it bad._

"Oh, hi H. Engine won't turn over. Probably the sparks, I knew they needed doing soon, I just hoped they'd last a bit longer."

"Ah."

Elena collected her lightweight jacket and purse from the car and locked it securely. She turned to Caine with a wry smile.

"Trouble is, I rarely trust a mechanic. They see a female and think they can rip me off. So I put off finding one until I have no choice and before you say it, I know that's stupid. All I really need right now is a taxi – sorry, a _cab."_

Caine's lips twitched. He enjoyed spotting the Englishisms that peppered her speech and there had been plenty of opportunities in the last six weeks.

"I'm sure we can do better than that. Where are you headed?"

"Well, I was going to get some shopping in and go home, but if you're offering me a ride, I have to warn you, it's Enchanted Place."

Caine wasn't entirely sure if it had just been a long day, but he wondered whether he imagined the emphasis on the word '_ride'. _

He was unaware that his lips were attractively pursed in thought and Elena tried not to look at them.

Caine put his sunglasses back on.

"North Miami."

"Yes, a bit of a detour I'm guessing. I don't know how that tallies with your journey home..?"

"Don't worry about it. Let's get you sorted."

Elena followed him to his vehicle and was pleasantly surprised when he opened the door for her. She slid into the car with a smile and a 'thanks' and clipped in her seat belt.

They exited the car park – parking lot, Elena reminded herself – and turned North. Caine drove well and appropriately for the traffic, leaving his passenger relaxed about her safety.

Elena couldn't think of what to say, so she didn't say anything, allowing Caine to concentrate on his driving. Used as he was to women generally talking a little too much, he found the silence calming rather than stressful.

Eventually though, even he found the silence too much.

"How do you like Miami so far?"

His passenger paused in thought and hummed briefly.

"Sunny, a little too hot, but perfect in the winter. Hugely mixed with a wide range of pockets. Such opulence beside such poverty. Beautiful and grubby. Extraordinary."

_Miami in a nutshell._

Caine glanced at his passenger.

"You picked that up in less than two months. Some people don't see that in years."

Elena shrugged before looking out at the passing scenery.

"It's knowing how to look and really_ see."_

They stopped at a red light and the air conditioning became more audible. Goosebumps raised on Elena's arms and she rubbed her upper arms to shake the chill. She didn't say anything, but Caine noticed and turned it down a notch; the car warmed just enough to be comfortable again.

"Thanks, that's better."

Caine nodded once and smiled briefly as he moved the car on the green light.

"How do you know it's perfect in the winter?"

Elena had been looking out of the window but now she turned to Caine.

"Came here years ago; spent Christmas and the New Year here. Santa in red shorts and T-shirt. Toured the Keys, visited the 'Glades, saw the Seminole Indians wrestling 'gators, ninety two degrees and dry as a bone, it was fabulous."

Caine was amused by the rapid fire assessment but not exactly sure why. In the last few weeks he had subtly been aware that his mood was lifting; he noticed that he was smiling more frequently and even laughing upon occasion. It was only now that he realised that Elena was usually around when it happened.

_Interesting._

"You came here with your husband."

"Yes."

Silence fell again.

Some minutes later Caine pulled off into a small shopping area and parked opposite a shop that was festooned with food of all colours and shapes.

Although Elena didn't ask what they were doing there, her face was very expressive. Caine glanced back at her as he moved to get out of the car.

"Thought you could get some of your supplies here..?"

Nothing loathe for a new experience, Elena climbed out after him and looked at the multitude of products displayed. It seemed very Spanish in tone.

Caine joined her and they entered together after he held the door open for her. She looked around, entranced.

"It's just like a corner shop. I used to call them 'Arkwright's' after a comedy show I watched on TV."

Caine smiled.

"Here, we call them _bodegas_."

"Which means..?"

His mouth twitched upwards as he collected a wire basket.

"It's Spanish for corner shop."

Elena huffed with amusement.

"I thought you were going to say 'convenience store'..."

"That, too."

"...ah, but to me a convenience store is one that sells toilets."

At Caine's lifted eyebrow, she elaborated.

"They used to be labelled a 'public conveniences' when I was young."

He smiled, appreciating the play on words.

Elena had been picking and choosing fresh fruit and vegetables as they walked around the small store, placing them in the basket that her boss still carried. It struck her how domesticated they looked together and it mentally brought her up short. She was still floundering with that thought when Caine gave her a considering smile.

"Not all that long ago then."

She laughed self-consciously and ducked her head.

"Longer than I'd like to think. Time has started to speed up; I don't know where the days go. A sign of old age, so I'm told."

"Don't believe everything you're told."

They had reached the counter and Caine placed the basket close to the till. Elena reached in her bag for her purse as the goods were put through.

"I know; useful rule for both cops and CSI's. I may be a 'Pollyanna', but I'm not completely naive."

"Good to know."

As was habitual for him, Caine scanned the area in and around the bodega. This neighbourhood was not known for trouble per se, but it was always wise to be vigilant in Miami.

The bodega owner, an elderly Hispanic man, smiled beatifically at Elena as he packed up her purchases.

"_Tal una pareja llamativa, tu que hará que bebés hermosos."_

Elena smiled politely, completely clueless at the man's statement. She looked to Caine for guidance but to her further puzzlement, he seemed a little disconcerted and...was he _blushing?_

Caine smiled at the shopkeeper as he hefted the groceries.

"_Gracias, estoy seguro de que lo haremos."_

Elena smiled and nodded politely, assuming from her very basic Spanish that Caine was saying 'thank you' as they left. Everyone knew what '_Gracias'_ meant, didn't they?

Back in Caine's car, Elena waited for him to explain, but even after they were back on the road he didn't refer to the bodega owners comment or his reply. Curiosity got the better of her before another half mile had passed.

"C'mon, I'm dying here, throw me a bone! What did that man say?"

To her surprise, Caine looked almost relieved.

He glanced at her.

"You don't understand Spanish?"

"Well, I got the 'thank you', but that was pretty much it. I staggered through French at school – I come from a land where the natives expect everyone to speak English, no matter where they were born!"

"Ah."

Elena laughed, even more intrigued now that Caine was being reticent.

"C'mon – give it up! You know by now that I won't quit!"

"Yes, I guess that I do."

They were nearly at her place now and she didn't want to lose the opportunity to find out.

"So..?"

Caine smiled as he brought his vehicle to a halt beside the path in front of the house she had rented, despite the fact that she had given him no directions. He turned to look at her, his smile a touch wry.

"Well, Elena Troi, if you insist on knowing, the gentleman said that we were 'a striking couple'."

The playful atmosphere in the car vanished for her with Caine's words. She had completely lost sight of the fact that he had a wife and now she felt such a fool. She fumbled for her seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

"I..oh, God, I'm sorry."

Caine frowned at the sudden change in her attitude. He turned off the ignition and got out of the car, collecting the groceries as he did so. Elena looked like she didn't know whether to stay or run for cover. She turned towards the house and he followed. She opened up the door and went through to the kitchen, nervously heading straight for the kettle. Caine placed the brown bag on the counter, ensuring that it didn't fall over.

"Elena..."

"Thanks for the lift..."

They had both spoken at the same time and both halted. Caine had removed his sunglasses and his eyes, so blue, were focused on the younger woman.

"What changed?"

Elena started.

"W...what do you mean?"

"A moment ago we were..." he paused, wanting to get it right. "...comfortable, then...we weren't. So what changed? Have I done something to upset you?"

Elena looked shocked and put her hand out as if to comfort Caine, but then withdrew it almost immediately.

"God, no, you didn't do anything wrong. It's me. Just feeling very silly right now."

"Why?"

Elena sighed. The kettle boiled, but she ignored it. Caine had his _'I'll get to the truth' _hat on.

_God, I'm so embarrassed._

"I forgot, for a moment...that you were married."

Caine frowned, wondering what that had to do with their conversation.

Fuelled by embarrassment, her voice was louder than she would have liked.

"I know we haven't known each other very long, but I should think that it's obvious to anyone that I don't – that we shouldn't – I'd never -"

She broke off, unwilling to put it into words. She turned to the kettle, her back to Caine, and muttered.

"I just _don't_, and I didn't think you would either."

Caine's eyebrows lifted as he followed the tangled explanation.

"You _don't..?"_

Elena gritted her teeth.

_Was he being deliberately obtuse?_

"I don't mess with married men."

"Neither do I"

"Ha ha, very funny. Not. You know very well what I mean. I don't know exactly what might be happening 'here', well, nothing, obviously, because, well, you're _married_, for God's sake!"

Caine's face cleared of confusion.

"Ah. Yes. I see."

"Oh good."

Just before the silence became oppressive Caine placed his shades carefully on the countertop. He looked down at the floor, but then, without lifting his head, he turned to look at Elena.

"For a woman who doesn't assume anything, that's quite a leap."

Elena's nervous fluttering stopped and she faced him. He looked relaxed compared to her, but he was poised and vigilant.

"Well, that's me. Jumping to conclusions is the only exercise some people get. Would you like a tea, coffee, or a cold drink?"

_Change the subject quickly while wanting to dig a hole and bury myself – check._

"A cold drink would be very refreshing right now, thank you."

Elena took a pre-prepared jug of lemonade from the fridge and poured out two tall glasses. Avoiding eye contact, she handed one to Caine and took hers into the living room, assuming, rightly, that Caine would follow.

He seated himself, took a drink and looked at the glass appreciatively.

"Home made?"

"Yes, this morning. It's nice to come home to something ready and waiting."

Caine nodded, privately amused as a completely different interpretation popped into his mind, and then took another drink.

"Yes, it is. And this is very nice; just the right side of tart and sweet."

"Thanks."

Silence fell again. The elephant loomed in the middle of the room and Elena was trying to avoid it, but her boss had no such compunction.

"At the risk of upsetting you again, I think we should clear the air - "

Elena, perched on the edge of the sofa, jumped as if stung.

"I know, I know. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry I said anything at all. Could we just forget it and pretend like nothing happened?"

Caine raised an eyebrow. His voice was mild.

"Nothing _has_ happened."

Elena blushed and put her hands up to cool her cheeks.

"Urm...no, but - "

Caine interrupted gently as he carefully placed his glass on the table.

"...and nothing will happen..."

"I know, I know. You're my supervisor; my _married_ supervisor. Besides, I have _rules_, I don't date my colleagues, let alone my boss..."

Her boss leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, his hands linked loosely. He continued as smoothly as if she had not spoken.

"...unless _you_ want to see where this goes."

Elena had her mouth open to continue her self-beration before she registered what he had said.

"I'm so s – w...what?"

Caine straightened up and looked at her, his expression solemn.

"But first and most importantly, I need to clear the air about my wife, Marisol."

Elena's heart sank.

"Marisol. It...it's a lovely name."

_And I bet she's gorgeous. Delko was kinda cute, so she had to be too._

"It is."

"Eric doesn't talk about his sister at all, at least not to me. I didn't even know her name, just that he's your brother-in-law."

"That's because he still finds it difficult..."

Caine took a calming breath before continuing.

"Marisol...died...shortly after we were married."

He could see the blood drain from her face as she took in his words. Her fingers were pressed against her lips as if to prevent another useless apology from escaping.

With some effort, she was able to speak.

"How long ago..?"

_A heartbeat._

Caine looked bleak but answered without pause.

"Six years."

The silence returned for several moments before Elena rubbed her face with both hands and scrubbed her fringe back off her forehead. She suddenly seemed older. She rested her chin on one hand and looked at Caine with unsentimental sympathy.

"How are you coping with it?"

Both of Caine's eyebrows rose at the straightforward question.

"I do believe that you are the first person to ask me that."

Elena raised one shapely eyebrow.

"Evasion _and_ diversion." She paused. "So, good days and bad days. Peaks and troughs."

Caine retrieved and sipped his lemonade, leaving her statement hanging. Condensation made his glass slippery, but he held it tight and the recently healed bullet wound in his side pulled and ached.

Elena shifted in her seat, her thoughts complicated by her own feelings.

"It will get better, you know. One day you'll realise that you think of her and it doesn't hurt so much. But it'll never go completely and there will be days where it's all as fresh and raw as the first few days. Men are luckier in a lot of respects."

Caine frowned.

"How so?"

Elena was now looking out to the garden, but her focus was distant.

"When you pick yourselves up, eventually, you still have all your options open. You can fall in love again, marry or not, and have children. Not everyone has that option."

Caine heard what was not being said, but he was thinking of Marisol and their desire to try for a baby if her chemo had worked. Even facing death, she was thinking of life.

Elena suddenly seemed to bounce back into the present, and gave him a smile.

"Heavens, when did this get to be so heavy? Don't mind me, feeling a bit maudlin." She sighed, consciously changing the atmosphere. "To say 'thanks' for driving me home, would you care to stay for dinner?"

She could read from his face that he was about to decline, but he suddenly seemed to change his mind. His slow smile was adorably bashful.

"You know what? I would like that. I'd like it very much, but only if you let me help."

Elena shrugged.

"There's not much to do really, it's only hot chicken and salad."

"Then I'll wash the salad."

Caine followed her back to the kitchen and they unpacked the bag together. He was surprised at the easy familiarity they had as they worked around each other, even though they were talking about their taste in music and not concentrating on what they were doing while they prepared the meal.

Elaine picked up one of the large peppers Caine had just rinsed and brought it up to her face. She inhaled, sighed and smiled.

"I love the smell of really fresh food. I think tomatoes are my all-time favourite; home grown are just divine. Back home my neighbour, Norman, used to hang a small bag of tomatoes on the fence between our houses. He had four greenhouses in his back garden; it was a corner plot, absolutely massive, and he had no need to buy any fruit or veg. I think he was worried that I wasn't eating enough after... Norman's tomatoes were akin to time travel – the smell and flavour took me straight back to my childhood, when tomatoes were _real."_

Elena looked up, suddenly feeling a bit silly, but Caine was not looking at her as if she was nuts.

"I know exactly what you mean. Modern tomatoes are grown hydroponically and it makes them taste quite bland."

Elena's face lit up with relief and enthusiasm.

"Yes,_ bland. _Just the right word."

She started chopping up the salad and adding it to a large bowl; red, yellow and orange bell peppers, tomatoes, cucumber, crisp lettuce, and baby spinach. She added red and green grapes, pine nuts and topped it off with a light sprinkle of toasted seed mix.

With direction, Caine found the plates and cutlery and took them out to the table on the little patio. He lit a citronella candle in an attempt to deter the nightlife, by which time Elena had followed him with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"I know you're driving, so feel free to say no; there's more lemonade if you prefer..?"

Caine smiled at her thoughtfulness.

"I think I can manage one glass of wine without causing trouble."

"Pity."

His eyebrow arched at her comment.

Elena seemed to have recovered her savoir-faire, and her grin was wry.

He opened the bottle of wine and half filled both of the long stemmed glasses, before handing one to her.

Caine held his glass up and returned Elena's grin.

"_Salute."_

She lifted an eyebrow and raised her own glass.

"Bottom's up."

They both drank and then seated themselves at the table to await the chicken.

Caine smiled.

"Unusual toast?"

"Not for a Brit. It always makes me want to laugh; it refers to the raising of the bottom of the glass but with my kind of upbringing the word 'bottom' just incites sniggers and memories of jokes about sailors scraping barnacles off their bottoms. I adore all sorts of humour, but I have a particular love of word-play and jokes that misdirect."

Caine mouth curved upwards again, making him look younger.

"So I've heard."

"You have, huh?"

She took another fortifying mouthful from her glass as he nodded.

" _'I know a guy who's addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop anytime'._ Eric was still laughing when he told me."

Elena grinned.

"Ah, that's from the punography list. '_I did a theatrical performance about puns – it was a play on words'._ The joys of the internet. A friend of mine back home is a microbiologist, her favourite is _'When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble." _

Caine grinned this time and shook his head.

"Lab jokes never get old."

Elena leaned back in her chair.

"I'm sure the populace have no idea how dark a sense of humour we have in a lab environment, particularly in pathology. Again, it's quite an English thing to offset tragedy with humour. Everyone is dedicated and professional in reality, and on the 'phone, but every now and then, you have to let it go or end up screaming."

Caine nodded in agreement before he drank some more of the excellent wine.

Elena smiled reminiscently.

"Where I used to work, a guy rang up wanting his own results. That's a big no-no wherever you work and I explained politely that I couldn't give him his results, that he'd have to phone his requesting doctor. He was actually chatting me up on the phone, would you believe it? What he didn't know was that I could see his clinical details..."

Caine's raised eyebrows spoke for him as Elena grinned.

"...erectile dysfunction. He went away disappointed in more than one way, poor bloke, but what an optimist!"

They both smiled, comfortable with each other and the odd conversation. Neither had to explain about the 'day job', neither had to pretend that nothing of any import had happened. Elena smiled her thanks when Caine topped up her glass and, surprisingly, his own. She assumed he knew his own tolerance for alcohol. She wasn't concerned though, Caine didn't seem like the kind of guy who would get drunk or turn into a mean one either.

"Penny for them?"

"Mm?"

"You went away for a moment."

Elena was pleasantly surprised at his perception. She decided to be honest.

"Well, to tell the truth, I was guesstimating what sort of drunk you would make."

It was Caine's turn to be surprised. One side of his mouth lifted with amusement.

"How did I do?"

Elena took another sip of wine, savouring the flavour on her tongue. The late afternoon warmth and the alcohol on an empty stomach was making her feel pleasantly relaxed.

"Actually, you did very well. I don't think you get drunk. You don't need to, and you don't like – in yourself or others – the indiscriminate loss of control."

Caine settled back in his chair, equally comfortable in this secluded garden. He wondered what else Elena had to add to her perceptive comment.

"Really?"

The brunette nodded.

"Uhuh. I'd also be willing to be that you have to be dragged out to social functions, probably by...Calleigh...would be my best guess."

She could tell from his expression that she had scored a hit, but she waited for his answer.

"Do you read palms too?"

She shook her head, laughing.

"Just faces, nothing supernatural."

Caine smiled again, enjoying himself.

"Thank goodness, I was worried that you could read minds."

"That'd be handy, wouldn't it? But it would have to be only surface level, just conversation, or we'd all end up killing each other. 'Does my bum look big in this?' could lead to murder!"

Caine's smile involuntarily became a short huff of laughter, surprised out of him by the conjured image.

"I can see you've given this some thought."

Elena's grin was wide, her sense of fun obvious.

"Naturally. Always curious, that's me."

The time seemed to melt away as they conversed over books, films, music, hobbies and living around a shift system at work. They both agreed that their career choice was hard on a social life and family.

They were both surprised when the timer went off to let them know that the chicken was ready. When Caine went to rise, Elena waved him back into his seat.

"No, you stay there, you look comfy. I'll just be a minute or two."

She returned to the kitchen while Caine found himself in an unusual position, emotionally speaking. He took another taste of his wine and found himself relaxing back into the patio chair. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed anything like this, just a meal on the patio, like so many others were probably doing about now. Something so domestic. But fun. It had also been a long time since he'd experienced a flicker of interest in a woman and he felt a measure of gratitude to Elena for waking him up from his deep sleep. But it wasn't just gratitude; the first time he had seen Elena he had known that she had the potential to disturb him. _Disturb _in a fine and sensual way. Sitting here in this warm, scented and sunny garden, he knew for certain that if Elena showed any encouragement, gave any indication that she was of the same mind, he would not turn her away.

For the first time in six years, he had discovered, quite by accident, an intriguing and intelligent woman that he wanted to take to bed.

Footsteps crossed the patio and a subtle perfume teased his nostrils. _Interesting._ She hadn't been wearing perfume at work earlier.

"Don't you go to sleep on me..."

Caine opened his eyes as the object of his thoughts placed two bowls of salad on the table, with a couple of choices of salad dressing.

_Funny she should mention sleeping..._

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Elena quickly returned with three stacked plates, the topmost holding the hot chicken.

"Good, because we have to mop up all that alcohol."

Caine smiled as he helped himself to some salad and a couple of pieces of chicken. He was quite sober, but aware that he was feeling very mellow. He could easily be tempted to have another drink, but he thought Elena was right, he'd better eat first.

Soft strains of music drifted out of the house, sufficiently quiet so as not to interfere with conversation, but present enough to cover any potentially awkward gaps, should there be any.

A contented silence reigned briefly while they served themselves, but conversation started up again fairly quickly. Elena was caught between conflicting desires: she was thoroughly enjoying this 'interlude' and wanted it to continue, but she found herself looking at Caine as a man instead of her supervisor, and wondered what he'd be like in the sack. Self-contained, studied and thoughtful? Or an animal unleashed, using that underlying restrained passion that rarely surfaced to see the light of day? Or a combination of both? She took another sip of wine to moisten suddenly dry lips.

As her head tipped to drink, her eyes met Caine's. Unusually for her, she couldn't get an accurate read on him. Desire was there, yes, as was admiration, but something was holding him back.

_Not fear, but perhaps a fear of rejection? He had married, he had obviously loved before, but..? He's very closed in - I wonder if he was abused, emotionally perhaps, as a child? He always seems to take domestic abuse cases very personally, and he's has a good rapport with child victims of violence. He knows just what to say to them..._

_Almost as if he's telling them what he would have liked to have heard..._

They ate in companionable silence until most of the way through the chicken.

Searching for a subject, Elena picked up her fork again after lighting another candle to offset the approaching dusk.

"So, tell me how you came to be called Horatio? Are you descended from a long line of seafaring men? Nelson? Hornblower?"

Caine shook his head, smiling.

"Or politics?"

"No."

"Or a Shakespearian fan?"

Another negative shake.

Elena pursed her lips in thought.

"Okay, my final guess is literature – Horatio Alger."

Caine was surprised and didn't hide it.

"I'm impressed, not many people think of Horatio Alger. My mother was an avid fan."

Elena grinned unexpectedly.

"Have you got a 'Ragged Dick' tucked away?"

Caine grinned, then laughed - he couldn't help himself, so he didn't try, and his laugh was so unexpectedly infectious that Elena joined in. Eventually she smiled ruefully.

"Not the most successful of chat-up lines, I suspect. Never had the opportunity to use it before."

"No, I imagine not..." Caine retrieved his wine glass and took a sip. "...but I am curious to know something."

"What's that?"

"Am I being 'chatted up'?"

The atmosphere suddenly seemed charged with energy.

Elena's insides swooped and rolled as she tried to figure out which way to jump. She was not a scared teenager with her first crush, she was mature enough to handle rejection gracefully, but she'd rather not have to 'handle' it. However, this man was also her boss and she would be breaking her self imposed rules.

She absently twisted the stem of her wineglass, gently swirling its contents.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not you want to be."

Her eyes flicked quickly up to his to check his reaction.

"And if I want to be?"

The roller coaster swooped again, but this time with excitement. Sod the rules! Elena placed her glass down with care.

"The fact that you asked if you were being 'chatted up' opened up the subject, whereas 'it' could have been glossed over as an amusing aside and we'd move on."

Caine nodded.

"True."

Elena's pulse was doing a fine dance. She swallowed and took a calming breath.

"Which makes me intuit that you are...interested."

Caine looked relaxed, but it was the relaxation of a poised animal. Lethal and rather...sexy.

"You may take that as a fact, providing that the interest is reciprocated, naturally."

Elena smiled, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"Naturally."

_Okay, they both knew the 'social' rules, how did the 'date' rules go?_

Caine saved her from having to decide where to go next by standing up and holding out his hand. When Elena looked blankly at the hand for a moment, the same hand took hold of hers and gently pulled her to her feet.

"Dance with me, please?"

Elena lost any thought about whether or not she had the right shoes on for this, or what to 'do' next as she stepped into Caine's arms. There was no awkward 'where do I put my arms, what kind of dancing are we doing' type dilemma, they just fit together naturally, and circled slowly, more or less in sync with the music.

She decided that she wasn't going to think too much about anything, whatever would happen – or not – would happen as 'it' was meant to, if he was going to kiss her at some point, then he would, and that would be just fine with her, too.

Elena relaxed into her dance partner's embrace and her body recognised _'simpatico' _when it found it.

A song ended and another started, this time a mellow sensual tune with a dusky voiced singer celebrating her lover's caresses as 'crazy' but impossible to resist.

Elena would have been almost as happy as anything to stay where she was for the rest of the evening, but the lazy brushing against each other was driving her crazy too. Caine's thighs against hers were firm, his arms made her feel secure, and his hands were doing all sorts of provocative things as they slid across her back or down to the curve at the base of her spine.

There was no more pretence of dancing, they were simply swaying together, and when Caine murmured her name she lifted her head from his shoulder to look in his eyes. With tacit permission given, his head lowered to hers and their lips finally met. The kiss was everything it should have been – firm, neither too dry or too wet, simply perfect.

In Elena's opinion it was over far too quickly though, but it seemed it had only been a 'taster' to see if it met with her approval. At her unconscious moan of loss, the lips returned with more conviction. Now Caine took his time, adjusting, tasting, searching, taking, his tongue demanding her co-operation quite unnecessarily as she was more than willing to meet him halfway.

The hands she had admired a little while ago now roamed with impunity, clasping her buttocks in order to hold her tighter against him. If she was in any doubt about her effect on him, it was removed by the evidence pressing against her thigh. Her body flooded with animal desire, and she wanted him with every fibre of her being – right here, right now, on the table if they must. Her own ferocity shocked her.

They pulled apart abruptly, both of their expressions a mixture of lust and surprise. Neither of them had expected their passion to ignite so spectacularly.

Elena spoke first, her left hand still on the back of Caine's head, her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Blimey!"

Caine smiled briefly at the exclamation, but grew serious.

"I didn't expect it to be like _this,_ and I'm guessing that you didn't either."

Elena shook her head, looking both innocent and sexy as hell, her moist lips slightly apart. Caine could feel himself being pulled towards those lips even though neither of them was moving an inch. He searched her face for any trace of reluctance and found none.

"Have I read this right, Elena? You're okay with _this?"_

"Horatio, I'm so 'okay' with _this_ that I was just contemplating doing you on the table if something didn't happen soon!"

Caine looked surprised, but his cock twitched in anticipation against Elena's thigh and she didn't think that he was even remotely put off by her boldness – in fact she thought just the opposite.

"I see."

The last words spoken faded to nothing on the night air and the tension between them was palpable. Caine took Elena's hand in his and stalked back into the lounge, towing her behind him. He delved into his pocket and looked down at his hand. He thumbed the screen of his cell. Elena, breathing shakily and fast, frowned at the timing...making a call now of all times!

"What are you doing?"

Blue eyes glittered with intent as he dropped the cellphone on the plush couch. His voice was a quiet growl.

"Making sure that we are not interrupted."

Relief and something far more primitive rushed through Elena.

She fumbled for her own 'phone and threw it roughly in the same direction as his without looking to see where it landed.

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her and he steadied himself, his hands about her trim waist.

Caine caught her hands with his and took charge.

"Now, where were we..?"

Elena inhaled to answer, but Caine's lips meshed with hers before she had a chance to speak and she instantly forgot what she had been about to say anyway.

By the time they parted for air, Elena discovered that her hands were back to roaming in Caine's hair, one arm bent around his shoulders, and his arms had her pulled her tight against his body.

They froze as they stared at each other. His eyes had turned to darkest blue and they focused on the swollen and lush lips he had just been kissing before they lifted to meet Elena's green and stunned gaze.

So it had not been a fluke.

The tip of her tongue moistened her lips before she breathed a word.

"Wow."

"I know."

No arrogance, just acceptance of the inevitable.

They kissed like teenagers, all the while pulling at each other's clothes until they were both naked. The rug in front of the fire came in handy as they sought the nearest flat surface, and Elena thought that things couldn't get any better when Caine's lips found her erect and tingling nipples just begging for his attention.

To Elena's surprise, she didn't feel remotely self-conscious as Caine's eyes and hands explored freely, eliciting moans and occasional gasps as he discovered her likes and dislikes – her ears were ticklish, she couldn't help that – so by the time he had kissed, nipped and deliciously sucked his way down her body she was more than ready when his talented tongue found her focus. Her back arched up off the floor and she clutched handfuls of the rug beneath her as exquisite delight made its presence felt in every part of her body.

"Oh, dear _God!_ That's...that's..._oh!"_

She couldn't think of anything but what he was doing to her. 'Liquid fire' might be a cliché, but that was exactly what it felt like. Despite her best efforts, when she felt him draw her into his mouth she climaxed almost immediately and so hard that her vision greyed out.

Elena flopped back in complete and utter satiation, breathing heavily and unable even to muster up something more original than "Oh, God, that was...something else."

Caine didn't seem too put out, judging by his smile.

"Ready to quit?"

Elena opened one eye, and grinned.

"Me? _Quit?_ I don't think so. Besides, I thought it was supposed to be your turn to have fun."

Caine got to his knees and sat back on his heels, wiping his chin as he did so. He looked pointedly down at his cock which was still clearly 'interested'.

"I apologise if I've left you with the impression I'm not having fun - I most assuredly _am_."

Without waiting for a reply he leaned forward, bracing his forearms either side of her shoulders, and therefore naturally settled between her parted legs. Using a hand to align himself, he thrust firmly inside her slick heat and they both groaned with primal pleasure. Caine gave her a moment to adjust to his invasion and snatched a heated kiss for his patience. Elena's arms clutched at him and her legs came up to embrace him - he slid a little deeper before pulling back and thrusting again. They quickly found their rhythm and Caine pounded like a man possessed. The picture Elena presented beneath him – a woman, flushed with arousal, clearly enjoying his almost savage lovemaking, her hair haloed around her head in wanton disarray, grunting as she met his every thrust with animal delight – was not an image he would be able to resist for very long. Wanting to make this last, he reluctantly withdrew in an attempt to regain control and delay his climax. Elena's pout of disappointment pleased him. He leaned back on his knees and tugged her up onto hers. Firmly but gently he turned her around to face the couch. He was pleased that she immediately caught on and leaned forward on her knees, her arms braced on the seat and her legs parted. She turned to look at him, wiggled her ass and grinned.

"Like what you see?"

Caine nodded, his pleasure as obvious as his erection.

"Oh, you have no idea."

He slipped his hands around her waist and stroked up and down her back, aiming to soothe himself while keeping Elena simmering, but as he leaned over her and slid his hands underneath to fondle her breasts and tease her hardened nipples, she groaned and rocked back into his lap, wordlessly demanding he return his cock back to its rightful place. Caine yielded to the inevitable – he was going to climax soon, in or out. He watched as he pushed slowly back inside Elena and almost forgot to breathe.

Much better _in._

They fit together perfectly and Caine's hands tightened on Elena's hips, pulling her back against him in counter-thrust as he pushed into her. Elena's hand dived underneath and he could feel her rubbing herself. Deliberately or otherwise, her fingernails teased his balls and lightning tingled along his spine.

_Oh God!_

_So much for trying to wait..._

His balls tightened and he revelled in the knowledge that he was on the brink. A half-formed thought that he'd not satisfied Elena again was instantly dispelled as she tightened and pulsed around him. Teeth gritted, he hung back for her as long as he could, until one final thrust pushed him over the edge into an ecstasy that wrung every drop from him, leaving him both exhilarated and spent.

Having caught his breath and holding her warm body close as they lay on the rug, Caine leaned over to whisper in Elena's ear.

"_Now _can I go to sleep on you..?"

She smiled sleepily.

"You _may."_

The End...


End file.
